


He Won't Quit

by Cheesecake_97



Category: Homeland
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Friendship/Love, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-19
Updated: 2016-05-03
Packaged: 2018-06-03 07:04:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6601444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cheesecake_97/pseuds/Cheesecake_97
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Takes place somewhere post season 5 or beyond. Just some fluffy ideas about the future. Light and hopeful. I try to re-imagine Quinn's past in a more positive light. Chapter 1 is Quinn's perspective, Chapter 2 is Carrie's perspective. Chapter 3 reveals an old secret from when Quinn was in a coma. Chapter 4 is the aftermath of that secret. Chapter 5 is their lives together in season 20.</p><p>I added another in between chapter, with more fluff.  More of their happily ever after. I also updated Chapter 5 so the whole piece works together better.</p><p>*Chapter 4 was posted May 3rd- What I Saved for You*</p><p>It is pure cotton candy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Seat 12G

**Author's Note:**

> My first ever fan fic. I have not done creative writing since college, back in the olden days, before digital cameras or texting.

He doesn't quit things.

*Welcome aboard British Airways sir, sorry for such a the long delay. Let's see, you're seated in 12G, right over here.

*Thanks.

It smelled like stale air and slightly moldy fabric cleaner. Commercial flights, so pedestrian. He folded himself into his seat. He wasn't someone who quit on things, but was he really going to quit this?

After age 9, he grew up relying on only himself but he knew, if things were going to get better he couldn't give up. He wasn't going to quit.

He didn't quit Hill School even with all those preppy, cocky, spoiled, rich kids. They had no street smarts but they sure did have expensive cars they didn't earn or deserve. It was disheartening, the things he had to do for Dar, but it was an opportunity he couldn't pass up. This was his way out from the past.

He didn't quit munitions training, even when deep down, his heart ached. Ached at the thought of the destruction he was creating.

He didn't quit Harvard after Dar got him a seat in the political science department. He never changed majors or dropped a class. Quitting was for the weak, and those east coast aristocrats and their kids didn't realize what a gift this education was. Fancy titles and fancy suits didn't impress him, but talented, patriotic people did. The CIA required excellent credentials and he was determined to earn them.

He didn't quit his extensive language training. Language fluency was one of his greatest secret weapons and he was a natural.

He didn't quit his field medic training. The sight of blood made him feel lightheaded, but that would never stop him from excelling.

He never quit The Group until one day... he did. For her. Yet in the end, all those years later he never quit the CIA. It was the wedge that drove Carrie and him apart. He just could never get out. Sure, he took a desk job as a boring analyst, doing translation work, becoming an adviser for operations, but Carrie's long held fear was that his advisory role would lead him back into the field. She would never allow that, not after watching and fighting for his recovery last year. Not after physical therapy, occupational therapy, speech therapy, group therapy, and completing his combat stress recovery program. She had screamed at Saul and Dar, demanding the best care for him, when he was unable to speak for himself. She had pulled every string, called in every favor, interrogated every medical specialist and now that he was finally mentally and physically some what functional, she refused to entertain the idea of him ever leaving a cubicle at Langley.

But deep down he missed the action, the complex problem solving, the improvising, the finding a way out when no one else could. Ironically, she of all people, showed little sympathy for such ideas. Maybe if they didn't care about each other so deeply or if they weren't both so invested, they could have let more stuff go. But they both had had too many years of suffering and pain, alone... that it colored every decision. He argued it would only be a 5 day trip, she shot back that it would turn into 2 years. Carrie couldn't understand how he could ever travel to the other side of the world and leave his "Frannie Bear" behind. Wasn't this the kettle calling the pot black? How could he miss Frannie's favorite homemade french toast Saturday morning dates, or bike rides on the river trail or his elaborate sock puppet shows in different languages?

But there was no backing down, they were both too stubborn for that. One day, after one very manic episode, Quinn came home to find all his possessions in a heap on the garage floor. No note, but the message was clear. If she wanted to end this without words, he could too. He wordlessly packed up his belongings. He was tempted to go back to the bottle but instead he went to Dar directly and volunteered for a short advisory op planned for Turkey. He was to ship out at the end of the week. All week long he wished she would call, but she didn't and neither did he.

His mind was elsewhere, when a small suitcase almost landed on his head. He instinctively sprung up and caught it. A small, white haired, plump grandma, blushed.

*Sorry, my bag can't seem to fit in this overhead bin.

*Oh here, let me.

In one smooth motion he had it secured among the other luggage.

*Thank you so much. She said bashfully.  
At least he wasn't totally useless anymore.  
A flight attendant moved in and helped the elderly women to her seat.  
*Here Mrs Palfrey, looks like you are in seat 14B. Watch your head.

He sat back down in his seat. He reached down to turn his phone off and realized he had missed a call! Sh-- It only took him hearing 2 seconds of the voicemail message before he leaped up, grabbed his sunglasses, his small leather bag and practically hurdled over seats to exit the plane.

All he had heard was Holy Cross Hospital and her name.


	2. An Adventure Story

You don't have to be a CIA operative to sleuth out where a patient's room is in a hospital. You just need a confident presence and an easy smile. Obviously, Quinn found her room in record time. The night shift was about to start when he pulled back the curtain around her bed.

*Quinny!  
Her cherubim face lit up. He instantly wrapped her up in a tight hug.

*Mommy said you went on a trip to find turkeys.

*I was going to, but I heard you got sick, so I came home.

*I told Mommy you would come, but she didn't believe me.

*Well, then she doesn't know me like you do.  
They both couldn't stop smiling. Then Frannie's face went dark.

*I think I scared Mommy when I spit up so much blood. They say I have to stay here tonight until I get better, just like you, in your old hospital.  
His heart sank, as another hospital and another hospital bed reminded him of last year. He sat down on the bed next to her, his arms still around her.

*Where is Mommy now, sweetie?

*Talking to some nurses somewhere. You aren't going to leave, are you?

*No, never Frannie Bear, how could I? His voice broke. There are so many more stories to tell you.

He didn't quit things, and he sure wasn't going to start now. This moment was worth more than any mission. She was worth it, and he wasn't going to quit on her. He took her tiny dimpled hands in his.

*Tell me a story, an adventure story Quinny.

********

Heaviness and fear surrounded her as she walked into Frannies' darkened room. The weight of uncertainty and the sea of tests that Frannie would have to endure in the next few days felt crushing. In an effort to find out what was wrong, Carrie just knew it was going to be brutal. Her personal anxiety made ever test, every decision feel like she was suffocating. When was she ever going to escape these horrible smelling hospitals? 

She pulled back the bed curtain and gasped. In the darkness, Frannie was fast asleep, sitting up snuggled in Quinn's arms, the tops of their foreheads touching. Her strawberry curls framed her round cheeks . His arms where tangled up in her IV tubes, his eyes were closed, and he was softy snoring into her little face. 

How could he really be here? He was suppose to be on the other side of the Atlantic right now. Dar said Quinn had long since checked into his flight, when she frantically grilled the Black Ops Director earlier that evening. She expected Quinn to receive her voicemail message after arriving in Turkey, something to add to his guilty conscience. But now, he was right here, right now, when she needed him the most. 

Of course he was. Frannie Bear was his whole world, and he was her Prince Charming. Frannie was the bundle of sunshine and innocent joy that lit up his physical therapy appointments and motivated him to try a military veterans support group. She taught him to smile more and he taught her funny phrases in Arabic. He wasn't the same after Berlin, but some things never change, if nothing else he was still extremely reliable. He was still her Chief of Support, even when they were too stubborn for their own good.

As she stared at him now softly slumped over, holding Frannie serene and peaceful, he was as far from a war zone as ever. How did that over confident, bossy guy who wanted Indian food become whatever this is now? Years of intelligence work had made her suspicious of everyone. No one was allowed too close, everyone was interrogated. How could she explain her instinctive trust in his judgment, and his opinions? She only knew she trusted him, and only him, with so many things, security codes, encrypted files, off the book ops, secret assets, her personal home address, her Embassy apartment key, her darkest secrets, her greatest fears.

Mostly she trusted him with her most precious gift Frannie, whom he had advocated for, long before Carrie herself could. There was a time when Frannie's very existence was a secret that only they shared. It was only after Carrie had learned she was Quinn's beneficiary for Syria, that his bank disclosed that every penny he had, was designated for John and Frannie. Accounts he had set up for them before he left for Islamabad. It made her chest tight just thinking of it. Those darkest days of fear and loss for her, his darkest depths of suffering some how led them here, wiser, kinder, softer, more compassionate. 

She wasn't grieving over him anymore, or fighting for him, or fighting with him, or protecting him, or saving him.... this was the point she choose him, freely. She finally saw with clarity what was literally right in front of her. She choose him, not out of guilt, or atonement but dare she say it out loud.... love.

Her thoughts were interrupted when a nurse touched her shoulder (of course the shoulder that had an old scar etched into it).

*I'm sorry Ms Mathison, visiting hours are over, your friend can't stay any longer.

*Thanks Juliet, but he's not a friend, he's family.

He had made his choice. She had made hers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The adventure story Quinn tells Frannie here is the Homelandian Fairytale by Crux01 of course.  
> http://archiveofourown.org/works/6104728/chapters/13992652


	3. Puking in a Waiting Room

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I added another in between chapter, with more fluff. More of their happily ever after.
> 
> Sh*t this was not the way to tell him. Not over the phone, not stuck in a bathroom stall and him covered in vomit in a doctors office.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will add one more in between chapter. Extra fluffy.

There are lots of magical moments we have in this life. Ones filled with joy, excitement, anticipation, passion, thrill and amazement. But typically being stuck in a sterile generic bathroom stall is not one of those "magical moments". Nor is being thrown up on, in the middle of a radiology waiting room. But this is real life and sometimes real life is hard. It's hard when you hear the diagnosis. It's heartbreaking to watch your baby suffer. It's relentlessly depressing to spend so many nights sleeping in a cot by her bedside. Carrie had f*ing turned into a nurse, like for real. The only comfort, was that these nights in the hospital, Quinn was there too. Two tiny cots wedged between the wall and Frannie's IV drip. During such a time of crisis, Quinn decided they needed more stability, so one weekend he moved them into a house in Georgetown. Carrie assumed he rented a townhouse with a tiny yard. But of course, Quinn being pretty much all or nothing... was all in and bought a historic home with a huge yard, on a tree lined street with a chunk of his savings. Quinn went on and on about all the great storage in the garage and Carrie's classic reaction was:

*You don't expect me to fill all these rooms with kids do you?

Quinn just winked and smiled enough to show his dimple. The home was beautiful, but Carrie was too distracted with Frannie's leukemia treatment to really appreciate Quinn's rather grand gesture.  
On a hot day in July, when she was complaining about the stairs, the extra bathrooms to clean and all boxes of that needed unpacking, Carrie said.. 

*I don't have time for this... Quinn, just don't ever make me move again.

*Don't worry, I plan on dying here.

Now back to real life. The real life that is full of annoying paperwork and a million signatures. Quinn was so frustrated he was thinking of the dozens of different ways he could threaten the radiology receptionist. This phone rang and interrupted his thoughts.

*Hey you said it was urgent.

*Yeah, this f*ing radiology office won't let me sign off on Frannie's CAT scan today. It's a clusterf*___

*OK, just calm down, it can't be that bad.

*That bad? Really Carrie? Frannie just threw up on me in the waiting room, I don't have her extra bag of clothes here. We've been waiting 2 weeks for this CAT scan appointment to see if she is cancer free and now her new meds are messing with her stomach. So no, it's not that bad.

Frannie was laying down on his lap, looking green.

* All right, relax. We'll sort it out.  
Carrie wasn't use to being the voice of reason and calm.

* Well I'm managing the situation. Wipes took care of most of the vomit and I hand sanitized us well enough so we don't reek. 

* Sorry I couldn't break away here.

*It's not your fault, this place is so unf*ing kid friendly. No fish tank. No books, no stickers. I'm f*ing packing back-up stickers in the truck next time . We are making due with the bio hazard labels they have, but it's like they have never seen a kid before.

Carrie laughed inside. Papa Quinn had showed up and he was not impressed. What would Rob and the guys say now?

*Let me talk to them, hand the phone over.

*I can't, the reception moron went into the back. She is throwing some fit because I'm not Frannie's dad or your husband. It's totally bulls*___

There is a flushing noise in the background.

*Carrie are you there? Where are you?

Quinn looked down at Frannie who was looking pale. He set down the phone.

*Quinny I don't feel good. 

* It's OK Frannie Bear, Mommy and I will sort this out. Here, snuggle close.  
He rubbed her back and went back to the phone

*Quinn are you there? Well, I don't have time for this. I'm in the middle of a conference call with Cairo. I'm hiding out in the 3rd floor bathroom to call you. Just tell them you're my husband and sign the damn paperwork.

*You think that will work?

*Well technically...

They were both instantly silent. Carrie heard Quinn catch his breath. SH* This was not the time to talk about this.

*What?  
Quinn was so incredulous it made Carrie flinch.  
*... is there something you need to tell me?

More uneasy silence. He wished he could try and read into her face. Stupid phones.

*Oh my God. What did you do?

*I'm so sorry!  
She blurted out.  
*Privacy laws and moving you internationally and HIPPA stuff here in the US. It just made transferring you easier.

*How could you? I was unconscious, in a coma. You never had my consent.

A grandma reading a celebrity magazine a few seats down turned her head to look.

*Come on Quinn. We are the CIA, we can do whatever the f* we want.

*That doesn't make it right.

Sh*t this was not the way to tell him. Not over the phone, not stuck in a bathroom stall and him covered in vomit in a doctors office. Wow. she had really f*ed it up this time.

*Listen, it was just a technicality, a piece of paper I filed. It doesn't mean anything. Don't flip out. Finish the CAT scan and we'll talk about it tonight OK?

*Fine. Whatever. You're the boss.

That hurt.

He hung up. To say he was stunned, would be an understatement. He hated to be blindsided. Well two can play at this game. She may have won round one, but he was going to win the next one for sure.  
Step one, find that old phone number to his storage unit. Step two... 

A new text came up on his phone. 

~If the radiologist has a problem with you, just show them this.~

Attached was a picture of THEIR New York marriage certificate, which when he looked closely at the dates, he realized was almost 2 years old. Quinn felt like joining Frannie and throwing up.


	4. What I Saved for You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath of Carrie's decision to marry Quinn when he was in a coma. Cotton candy ahead.

Carrie's mouth was dry and her hands felt nervous has she turned the knob on the front door of their home that night. Quinn was playing it cool, as she walked into the kitchen. She could play it cool too. Frannie was happily painting with a new set of watercolor paints at the kitchen table. Carrie had spent the whole drive home formulating how she was going to defend her position. She was ready for battle, but then he turned the tables as he wordlessly handed her a large, yellow, legal sized envelope. He looked serious, as she opened it. Her eyes became wide with surprise. 

*The courthouse does adoptions on Friday mornings. You need to sign the 2nd and 4th pages. I went ahead requested a Friday court date early next month.

Carrie couldn't help but grin.

*I thought this would make all our paperwork issues much more efficient.

*So this just about efficiency?

*Yes, of course.

*Have you told her?  
She asked quietly pointing to Frannie in the other room.

*No, I thought we should tell her together, over ice cream sundaes tonight.

A smile crept up to her eyes. Funny, that in another life she would have questioned his intentions, or loyalty or interrogated his motives. But here, there was nothing to second guess. He had long ago proved faithful, she trusted him implicitly. His dedication to Frannie was a long held secret between them. But old secrets also had the potential to tear them apart.

*About today, I should have told you sooner. It's just that... at the time, I wasn't sure you would ever recover. Later I was afraid it would be too shocking or confusing when you were still healing. Then everything with Frannie..... time just got away from me.

*Yeah. 

The were both silent and still, unsure what to say. They just stood there and stared at one another, wondering how they ever got to this point. Finally Quinn broke the awkward moment. 

*I can't believe you made us so f*ing traditional! I mean everything in New York, we were.....already married and had been for awhile. 

*Yeah, I guess so. I never really thought about that.

*I've been literally f*ing my WIFE?!

*I hope you still think that's hot.

There was a twinkle in her eye. He couldn't stay mad at her for long. He smiled in spite of himself for a second. No, he wasn't going to let her wiggle out of this one, that easily.

*What if I ran off? or left ? or...

Carrie crossed her arms over her chest.  
*Oh, Quinn. I knew you weren't going to quit on me. You never really have. I always trusted you, to come through for me, to be here, to have my back.

He looked a little shaken. Was he that easy to read? She moved closer and covered his great big hand with her little hand. They just quietly held hands for a moment. 

* I think they call that love.

* Well, a piece of paper doesn't change that.

* But it does change my tax status!

They both laughed. It was good to finally have something to laugh about. He reached out and pulled her into a tender kiss.

*Maybe after the adoption hearing, we should have your sister's family over here for lunch. We could eat on the new patio.  
He whispered in her ear.

*Yeah, that would be nice.

Excellent, stage 2 completed. He was quite proud of himself. 

Carrie leaned her head on his shoulder and relaxed into him. Peace. That was what she felt. After all the heartbreaking storms, here was her peace. She had come home expecting a fight, she was ready to defend her actions, but instead he out maneuvered her and doubled down on the commitment front. He didn't appear too sad to be married to her. Maybe because his whole world had been about protecting her. Dare she contemplate the fact, he always had. Frannie spilled her painting cup and real life came flooding back. 

*Quinn, maybe I should make some soup tonight.

*That's OK... last time... it was memorable. Here I'll make pasta.

If only she knew, he was far from disappointed. He was so proud of her, of who she had become. She took such a chance on him in Germany. What an f*ing bold move. She might have beat him to the punch, but he wasn't done yet.

******

At work Quinn just caught the door of the elevator and stepped inside next to Carrie. He opened is mouth to say something but his phone rang. 

* Sorry, I have to get it.

Carrie shrugged. Wasn't this the same elevator they once fought in, after Quinn spied on her medical records? So typical, Quinn and his research. He was defending Frannie, even back then.

* Just two more apple trees, yes, OK, thanks. Bye.

Carrie looked somber and jumped in,  
*How many fruit trees do we need Quinn? You and your landscaping, its getting too crazy.

*Crazy. Interesting word.

*I'm serious, the deck, the tress, the flower planters, the lights. Really, the botanical gardens can't hold a candle to your precious backyard.

*Relax, remember my therapist said gardening was therapeutic. Besides the adoption hearing will be over in a few days and you won't have to worry...

*That's not what I'm worried about.

*Good, because I've already handled the catering, chairs and linens.  
(That was where he made his fatal miss step.)

Carrie turned to face him head on, guns blazing. Here it comes.

*Linens? Quinn why on earth would we need to rent tablecloths if just Maggie and the girls are coming over?

The color drained from his face. His hands got clammy. Stand your ground. Retake control.  
As calmly as possible he said,

*Because every wedding needs good linens.

Carrie looked at him, like he had just placed an automatic weapon to her head. Angry welled up inside. Her eyes got big. Shock covered her face.

*You f*ing can't...

*Hey, I wasn't the one to marry us, in the first place. Besides, if you want a proper ring, a wedding seems like the most logical place to receive one.

Carrie's mouth dropped open. There was nothing to say. She raked her hands through her hair.  
*Unf*ing believable. The patio, the new flowering shrubs, upgrading the outdoor lights.

*Yup.

*All those fruit trees?

*Who doesn't love apple blossoms in the spring?

She didn't know if she should slap him or kiss him.  
* When were you going to tell me?

* Friday morning before the tables were delivered. I knew you would hate to plan this thing. So I did.

She was shocked. He looked smug.

*I never said you couldn't run an operation.  
She said full of sarcasm, but she wasn't done yet,  
*You know, most people ask the other person, if they WANT to get married.

* I don't remember you asking me in Germany. I think we are even.

* What if I said no.

*I guess you would have to divorce me.

She was cornered and he knew it.

*Don't worry, Frannie will stand with you. Johnny will stand with me. It will take 15 minutes, tops. Frannie loves her dress and...

*Dress?

*Don't be mad, Maggie was the model for the alterations, we took the sleeves off but I think you'll....

*You picked out my dress?

*Well, see it's.. it's, it was ... my mom's wedding dress.

Some how, in the way he said it, she knew he had been saving that dress for her. That little detail, that small truth, is what broke the camel's back. She understood how unspeakably precious his memories of her were. The fact he still had her dress, that he had been saving it.. for her...well, that was the crack in the dam. Tears welled up in her eyes. Of course, there was nothing left to do but cry. He wrapped her up in his arms. She was crying into his chest. It was all so overwhelming. Quinn adopting Frannie, a wedding, Frannie being cancer-free, his mom's dress, all of it. In the mist of her tears she heard him whisper in her ear,

*I'm so proud of you Carrie. This real life now... its all I could have ever wanted. Say yes. There is so much to celebrate and maybe I just wanted to see you in her dress.

She squeezed harder into her hug. In a moment, she wiped away her tears.

*Only thing is, I have this black ops assassin guy I'm still kind of into.

*That's too bad, I heard he died in a gas chamber.  
There was a twinkle in his eye.  
He smiled, she blushed pink, his dimple always got to her.

* So what time is it again?

*The adoption finalization is at 10 am. Lunch and our little celebration is 1 pm at the house... on Friday.

*Like in 48 hours.

*Like that.  
Well, ETA is actually in less than 45 hours.

*I guess I could stop by during my lunch hour from work.

*Wow, how thoughtful of you Mrs. Quinn.

*Hey, it's Mrs. Mathison-Quinn to you! Anything else I should know about this week?

* You won't be at work on Monday.

* Really? She raised an eyebrow. 

* Given I was unconscious when we tied the knot last time, I'm not about to miss the honeymoon and neither are you.

The elevator doors opened, he broke off their embrace and confidently strode away. He definitely won this round. 

 

******

Now, if you believe the office rumors, they say Dar shed a tear, Saul sang a song and that Carrie looked radiate in an off white, vintage, tea length dress. Many said they had never seen so many apple blossoms in one backyard. No one would normally believe such outrageous rumors but the fact that Carrie and Quinn both came back with deep tans two weeks later was a dead giveaway. That and Carrie's ring. Rumor has it, they went to the Maldives, but you know spies, they never tell.


	5. Hospital Beds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Takes place in the distant future. Season 20 or so.

As a new nursing graduate, she had drawn the short straw and was tasked with the unwelcomed job of convincing her in-home elderly couple, it was time to move into hospital beds. Her nursing agency wanted them moved into proper hospital beds, if care was to continue at home. They had both become too much of a fall risk and it was only a matter of time before they would be unable to get themselves out of a traditional bed.  
As she walked up to their Georgetown home in early February, she tried to prepare herself. She knew their files and dread filled her stomach. She rang the door bell and tried to build up her courage.

*Good morning dear.  
A white haired, tiny women smiled up at her with bright blue eyes. She looked so frail.

*Good morning, I'm glad to see you are using your cane Mrs.___

*Humph stupid cane. Rupes your hot, young nurse is here to see you.

*I'm sorry I'm here to see both of you....

*Claire, Claire.. what are you saying? You have to speak up.  
A voice said from within the house.

*He's getting so deaf I could shoot him.  
The little lady said with a serious tone.

*I heard that.

*Ummm I can come in?

*Oh yes.. right this way, remind me of your name again?

*Emily, from Home Health Partners.

*Right, right.  
The frail women turned and yelled down the hall,  
*Quinn your girlfriend is here.

Their beautiful historic home was lined with old books, dozens of family pictures, treasures from their travels abroad and simple uncluttered abstract artwork. The windows were opened to the large garden behind the house. A middle aged women with auburn hair walked in from the back door.

*Oh hi Emily, I'm glad you could make it. I just stopped by to check on them. Dad is right here, in the study.

They walked into the cozy room lined with even more books, old maps and a million pictures of little babies. The slight built, grey haired old man, was wrapped up in a plaid blanket, sitting in a large leather chair. His nose was in a book, a biography of Prince Albert. He looked up from his book, and his steel blue eyes shined and a warm smile spread over his face, a faint dimple appearing in his cheek.

*Dad, remember this is Emily the nurse. She is here to check on your lungs.

*Oh, yes. Good morning. Claire can you get me my other glasses?  
He strategically placed his book on top of a stack of files, obscuring the word "classified" on them.

*Dad, you know mom's name is Carrie right?

*Of course, what did I say?

*Claire.

*Close enough.

*Emily, my parents recently have been slipping with names.  
She lowered her voice.

*I heard that Francine.  
Carrie shouted from the other room.

Emily checked Quinn's vitals and listened to his lungs. Carrie slowly brought in tea and sat in a matching leather chair next to Quinn. The nurse asked about their nutrition and what they where eating. Carrie piped up and mentioned that Quinn left some fish to broil too long last week and....

*I can still cook just fine, I'm not useless here. I have an excellent brown bread recipe...

* Heaven forbid we hurt your pride Quinn. I just don't want you burning down the house with the stove.  
Carrie jumped in.

*Well it's better than us trying to survive on YOUR cooking! Remember that horrific soup...

*OK, OK Mom and Dad that is enough. I'm so sorry Emily, they are both quite head strong and it's very difficult for them to accept help. They have been so independent for so long.

*And we STILL are independent here. Carrie firmly interrupted.

Emily tried to turn the conversation more positive.  
*Don't you have a wedding anniversary coming up? How many years will it be?

Quinn rolled his eyes, Carrie huffed,  
*Don't even start with me.

*No, it is definitely your fault. I was in a coma, so don't look at me.

*You will always blame me, won't you!

*I'm sorry Emily, it's a rather complicated issue with my parents... what else do we need to cover today?

*Yes, well, you see Mr. and Mrs. Q our agency is worried about you falling and maneuvering in and out of bed.

*Well Quinn has never had a reason to complain about our maneuvering in bed.  
Carrie said with a gleam in her eye that made the young nurse blush.

*Mother. Not now.

*Mrs Q, what if we just move in two hospital beds for a week, just to try it out. We could put one downstairs and one upstairs, you might find...  
That is where Emily made her mistake, a hurricane was about to be unleashed.

*NO, this is MY house and I will not have it filled with hospital beds. Quinn and I are perfectly capable as we are.  
Her voice was rising, she stood up, moved closer and became more intense.  
*We have been in this house 40 years and I'm not going to have it turned into some psych ward, or rehab center or hospital. I won't allow it. We have had enough of all that. And if you think...

Her eyes were piercing, the words spilling out of her faster and faster... she was so focused and in control. She still had that presence, she could still command a room. His chest filled with pride. She was still his Carrie. He smiled inside.

* ... that, that you can force us into separate rooms, well young lady that will never happen. Just because the kids removed all the weapons from the house, doesn't mean we can't defend ourselves, doesn't mean Quinn can't build some sh__t in the garage. He has enough junk out there to...

*It's not junk and it's extremely organized. 

*Yeah well organization didn't save John's 8th grade science project.

*Will you never let that go? I told you it was a mechanical failure, not a detonator failure.

*Stop, both of you. Emily doesn't need to hear this! 

*Oh she can hear it, because no one is going to intimidate my ass. I still have a say in this house and I can count on one hand how many times we've spent a night apart, since he was an idiot and tried to run off to command an op in Turkey and....

*Mother, sit down.. I'm so sorry, she gets so agitated, let me get her meds.  
Frannie raced to the kitchen to find them.

*I don't care how much he snores or coughs at night.. I will never.. she was swearing a blue streak and refusing to sit down or back down, so Quinn quickly ushered Emily out into the hall towards the front door. The young nurse's eyes were wide and her inexperience was apparent.

*I'm so sorry, my wife has always been... passionate. Here, let me get the door for you.

*I've got it.

*No, I insist.  
He opened the front door wide. Emily turned to say good-bye but Mr. Q wasn't done yet.

*You see, I can't drive Carrie around anymore, I can barely open doors for her, if I wasn't able to cook for her, care for her... his voice broke. Well its something I still can't quite quit, that piece of our life together.  
Tears welled up in his eyes as he tenderly continued...

*I know that hot headed tornado in there can be ferocious, but she is brilliant. Her vision maybe going, but to me she is as radiant as the days I was forced to shoot her. You see, you can't tell her what to do. I've learned that. I don't know what you have to write in your progress report on us, but I'm sure you can find the right words to express our need to keep our bed and stove. We can't quit those things, those things that keep us together... not yet.

Emily tried to hold back her own tears, as she gave him a big hug and promised to keep them here, together, for as long as possible. Quinn shuffled back into the study where Carrie was sitting, calmly sipping her tea. Carrie and Quinn exchanged knowing glances and he picked up his book again.

Frannie burst back into the room with a handful of medication bottles. She looked at her parents silently staring at each other. One of them slightly raised an eyebrow and Frannie thew up her hands in disgust.

*Really, really? That poor girl didn't stand a chance against the two of you. When will it ever stop?

*Oh, she was so easy to play. That was nothing.  
Carrie smiled with great pride.

*It's not nothing Mom, I'm really worried about the bed...

*Fran, I don't think Mom even knows how to sleep without me coughing in her face.

*That's how I know he's still breathing, that and snoring in my ear.

*I don't snore.

*You two are f__ing unbelievable. 

*What can I say, Dad and I always did make a great team.

*You know..... every good cop, needs a bad cop.  
There was a twinkle in his eye and a dimple in his cheek.

****

On a sunny, warm morning in late April, the trees were in full bloom, when the coroner left the house and Frannie smiled through her tears both of shock and grief. Her daughters were flying home from college to be here, John and his kids were coming tonight from Brussels, Grace and her husband were catching a flight from California. Everyone would be home soon. A home which they had first created for her and her strawberry locks while she battled childhood leukemia. Then a home for John to share with them during summers. Finally after the heartache of infertility, little baby Grace came home to this house. This was their real life, their real love, and it filled every nook and cranny. It wasn't perfect, but it was forever a refuge from the darkness of the world. As they where wheeled out together, Frannie lifted the white sheet covering their still faces and whispered in their ears.

*You finally got out, together.  
Your last wishes came true.  
You never had to suffer in another hospital bed  
and most of all, you never had to spend another night apart.

It seemed as if every apple tree was blooming just for them.

-the end-


End file.
